Hey everyone,
I don’t have my usual enthusiasm today. I’ve spent the last few days obsessively reading the news from India and between the worrying, the checking in with friends and family in Delhi, the anger, the sadness, and the pain, my nerves are frayed.
Last year, I decided that in the moments that I felt like this, I would refrain from lashing out on social media, from getting into arguments, and from sinking so far into despair that I became useless to anyone.
I failed on all three counts today.
But I also promised that I would help. Emotionally, by reaching out to people individually. Financially, by supporting people and organizations that are on the ground. And creatively, by taking these feelings and channeling them into something meaningful.
And in that, I succeeded. I did do all of those things.
Creatively speaking, I finished a first draft of a dystopian novel set in India in November last year. Today, for the first time in five months, I felt a desperate need to go back in and start getting it ready for submission.
In agent news, I got my contract from my London agent yesterday. It took a few conversations for us to all get the language right because, as I mentioned, I didn’t want to be exclusive to any one agent. (I will talk about contracts and the pros and cons of exclusivity in my course, The Agent Game, which opens for registration on Monday.) But for now, I have three people at the agency poring over my proposal and making notes. I’m told the edits, if any, won’t be more than a few minor tweaks, but I live with an editor. I know how this goes. I’m actually quite excited about it. Their Editorial Director is a New York Times bestselling author and a beast with proposals, and I’m keen to see how he thinks it fares.
In The Agent Game, I do a few things differently. Instead of following the industry standard of taking an agent-centric approach to querying, I take the author-centric approach. Which is that I make sure that you, the author, remain in control of this process from start to finish, from the moment you start selecting the agents you’ll pitch to determining the terms of the offer.
What does this look like in practice?
For me, it meant that I had agents trying to convince me why I should sign with them rather than the other way around.
It meant that the man who is my New York agent requested my novel manuscript, read it overnight, and got on the phone with me that same day because he knew I had another offer. The same thing happened with the memoir. An agent in London requested our proposal after I told him we had an offer, read it over the weekend, loved it, and passed it on to a colleague who was specifically looking for this kind of book. She read it overnight and offered representation the next morning, even before we’d talked. (And yes, we ended up signing with her.)
It meant that when I got on the phone with agents, many were trying to convince me why they were better than other agents and agencies. It meant that we were able to discuss movie and serial rights and see if our visions matched.
It meant that I was able to tell agents that I wasn’t going to sign an exclusive agreement and was happy to walk away if this did not seem reasonable to them.
It meant I was able to negotiate agency fees. Here’s the exact response I received from one agent when I suggested their foreign rights rates were too high: “The increased commission is to reflect the fact that the agency commission is split between the primary agent and the deal agent, like with translation deals… If this is a deal-breaker between making a decision then please do let me know and I will talk to the foreign rights team.”
And finally, it meant that I felt much more at ease and in charge of the process, and much more comfortable asking questions, even those that felt uncomfortable or egotistical (such as those about potential movie deals).
An author-centric approach to this process means first getting super clear on what you want and then finding the right partners who will share that vision. Rather than just going with the first agent who offers representation, having an idea of what you’re looking for and then comparing them to that standard. Taking advice only when it feels right and only from someone who is invested in your work. Not ignoring the voice that says they’re not the right fit. Not operating out of fear. Not giving in to the temptation to say yes because you’re worried no one else will want you.
Selecting agents (or any long-term partnership) from a place of scarcity is the worst thing you can do. This is someone who will be your face in the world, who will be the person describing your book and your vision to decision-makers in the publishing world. Will they represent it accurately?
In my course The Agent Game, which opens for registrations on Monday, April 26, I’ll teach you how to make sure the answer is yes.
If you know anyone who’s looking for a literary agent this year, let them know they can sign up to this newsletter and get notified the moment registration is open.
Just send them to https://www.natasharelph.com/free/ and we’ll take it from there.
Cheers,
Natasha